Morning Memories
by KnightcrawlerLR
Summary: Nick investigates a grizzly murder while dealing with new obsticles in his quest for humanity. Natalie introduces some advances and setbacks in finding a cure for Nick. Please R
1. Chapter 1

****

This story has been begging to get out for a long time and now it's going to happen.

The following characters don't belong to me, I'm just borrowing them with thanks to Sony Pictures and Mr. Parriott et al. There will be mature subject matter (language, sex, violence etc.), so if that offends move along.

Morning Memories

Chapter 1/?

The sun was just starting to crest over the horizon. Fingers of light were splayed into the quickly receding night. The tenuous hold over the earth was slipping. Outside the birds announced the coming of the new day.

She turned her head into the hand caressing her face; ever so gently the fingers threaded their way through her hair. Coming once again to touch the soft cheek.

"I have to go." He said, leaning forward to brush his lips against her forehead, trailing down to press against her lips, applying a subtle pressure, and then withdrawing.

Her hand reached for his. Clasping together, sharing the words that could not be spoken. She looked longingly into his blue eyes as her head dipped in acknowledgement. Releasing her hand, he made his way through the door. No other sound permeated the room except the quiet footfalls echoing not only in her ears but also in her heart as well.

The shrill of an unknown bird brought her up from the threshold of dreams. The sun peeked around the window shade and announced his arrival with a flash of warmth upon her face.

"Oh, Sidney," she breathed, a yawn catching her off guard, "Good morning." She pushed herself to an upright position and stretched the muscles in her arms and back. Reaching down to scratch her beloved pet between his ears she received a rumbling purr as thanks for her ministrations. "I hope you have nothing planned for the day, because since I finally have a day off from work, you're going to see a lot of me, the sunshine, and of course, the dreaded vacuum cleaner."

The cat showed no signs of interest in the spoken words, but enthusiastically pushed his head into the scratching machine that his mistress provided. "Oh you! You're just dying for some affection, aren't you? Well you'll get your doses throughout the day. Right now I have to get up and get in the shower or our day will end up a complete loss."

Natalie got out of bed and made her way to the bathroom. After tending to nature's call, she turned the shower on and adjusted the temperature. Removing her watch and necklace, she carefully stepped into the steaming stall. The heat of the shower removed the remaining stiffness from her joints. Grabbing the shampoo, she made quick work of her hair. Wash, rinse. Repeat. The cool feeling of the body gel applied to the washcloth brought other feelings to mind. The soft caress of his hands over her shoulders, trailing down her back the press of his chest against hers. And his lips….Oh those lips…. Touching and tasting every inch of exposed skin, eliciting cries of pleasure and delight. A shudder ran through her body at the memory of the rapture he evoked.

Oh come on now, she chastised herself, You keep this up and you'll never leave the shower. And here you were blaming the cat for distracting you. Quickly rinsing off, and filing away the remnants of her dream, Natalie grabbed the towel, dried herself, and made her way to the wardrobe. There she selected a pair of jeans and a T-shirt, forgoing the bra and panties. Hell, this was her day off and with no where to go for a while, she figured decorum be damned. With that thought she proceeded to the kitchen, made and drank her coffee, ate a simple breakfast and figured out the best way to attack her housecleaning.

Elsewhere in Toronto, the bright start of the new day failed to pierce the shuttered windows in the home of Nicholas Knight. A single light glowed in the kitchen, casting shadows throughout the loft. Even if all the lights were on, none could relieve the darkness that plagued the sleeping vampire.

He'd fallen asleep on the couch again. The leather voiced its protest as a new onslaught of thrashing began. Bloodsweat beaded his forehead to form tiny rivers that flowed forth to deposit themselves on the smooth leather. Turning the rich, dark brown material a dull black.

Lying on the four-post bed, Nicholas De Brabant quickly scanned the room, the feeling of uneasiness suddenly overcoming the hunger that previously occupied his thoughts. He stretched his preternatural senses, but detected nothing out of the ordinary. The only sound audible was coming from the kitchen on the other side of the building. The staff preparing the late evening meal, in expectation of any weary travelers to grace the Lamb's Heath.

Ah, yes. His meal should be arriving shortly.

The furniture had seen better times Nicholas noted. The once stylish décor reminded the former Crusader of his beloved Janette. The gold, scarlet, and black appointments eliciting visions of her; fine black silk, sparkling diamonds set in polished gold caressing her slim neck, and blood. A small droplet escaping the corner of her mouth as she released her victim.

Something's still not right.

For some reason that feeling kept creeping back.

"Why do I feel like I'm being watched?" he whispered. A frown wrinkled his brow.

His musings were interrupted by a soft knock at the door. Crossing the floor to the sitting room, Nicholas detected the rapid heartbeat and increased respiration of the nervous servant in the hallway.

"Come in." The blond vampire said his tone inviting.

A lithe young woman entered, carrying a tray of food and a tankard of ale. Dressed in a faded yellow smock that bore the stains and smells that decried her position in this establishment, she hurriedly placed her burden on a nearby table. Not even looking at the imposing figure as she passed.

"Will that be all, milord?" She asked timidly as she turned to leave, taking a few hesitant steps towards the door.

"Meave, before you go, there is something else I require."

"Yes, milord." She replied, never once taking her eyes off the floor.

"Look at me." Meave glanced at the door, but she still would not look at him. Nicholas cupped her chin in his hand and lifted her head. Her auburn hair was tied back but a few errant tendrils had fallen loose to frame her face. Sliding softly past her cheek to curl in gentle waves at the base of her throat. His gaze traveled from her neck up to her eyes.

"Look at me." He repeated. The tone of his voice could not be denied. Meave

did as he commanded.

Nicholas' gaze held the girl entranced. Her heartbeat drumming inside his head. The call of her blood intense as his hunger demanded to be fed.

He tipped his head down and kissed her lips, gently at first and then with more force. His hands slid to her shoulders, pulling her body close to his, then proceeded to caress her through the worn fabric. Calling forth her desire, Nicholas responded to the actions he created. He reached up and pulled Meave's head to one side and plunged his fangs into the pulsing artery in the side of her throat. The blood rush forth and he drank greedily. Relishing the sweet taste, the warmth as it flowed into him. Quenching his thirst…his need.

All too soon her heartbeat began to fade and Nicholas crushed her body to him as if that action would supply him with more, but alas no more was forthcoming.

As he released Meave and watched her fall silently to the floor, Nicholas once again felt a disturbance. He whipped his head around to scan the room, his fangs bared and ready to attack this interloper, but no one was there. At least no one he could see.

At the far end of the room a figure stood, bathed in shadow. No, he could not be seen. This was just a dream. His dream. Nick Knight had watched the scene before him play out. Helpless to interfere even if he wanted to. The actions of those in the room occurred as if he were watching a play. The lines and directions given, the characters going through the motions, and the final act closing the story, as he knew it would. It had happened so many times, it would happen again. And again.

He was powerless to stop the hunger for blood. The taking of another's life.

As Nicholas walked away from the lifeless body on the floor, he shook off the strange sensations plaguing him. It was time to go.

Nick observed his former self-retreating to the bedroom, and cast one last look at the woman who lost her life this night.

To his shock, the body on the floor was not the servant Meave. Those were not servants' clothes. This woman lying before him wore a cream colored silk blouse and a navy blue skirt. Her hair obscured her face and as Nick stepped forward fear clutched his chest. He knelt down and rolled the body into his arms.

No… It can't be…The wavy hair that framed her pale face, the cold still lips, and the lifeless eyes staring at oblivion. Nick thought he was delusional but when he licked his lips and tasted blood, he realized the horrifying truth.

"Nooooooooooo!"

End Chapter 1


	2. Chapter 2

**The following characters don't belong to me, I'm just borrowing them with thanks to Sony Pictures and Mr. Parriott et al. There will be mature subject matter (The equivalent of L&O SVU i.e. language, sex, violence etc.), so if that offends move along. **

**Morning Memories**

**Chapter 2**

**Nick's eyes shot open. The red pupils were quickly fading to gold. The unfulfilled hunger gnawing at him. Burning. He rushed to the refrigerator, opened the door and clasped his hand around the neck of the bottle, which held his relief. The cork offered little resistance to Nick and removing it upended the bottle. Taking great gulps of the cold liquid. Desperately trying to extinguish the fire inside him. Only when the bottle was empty did Nick start to relax. He leaned back against the cool door and only then did he realize the additional effects of the dream. His clothing was soaked and clung to him in disarray. A frown creased his brow as he glanced at his watch. Only 8:34A.M. With a sigh, Nick, reached into the fridge and withdrew another bottle. He went into the kitchen, rinsed and discarded his empty, then wearily climbed the stairs to his room. After peeling the offending clothes off, Nick stepped into his shower and turned the hot water on. The water removed the layer of blood covering his body and the steam produced a fog before his eyes. Rolling around, creating images too fast for even his vampire mind to sort out, but each flash bringing the dream back to life.**

**No!**

**He finished washing, exited, slipped on his pajamas, and crawled between the sheets of his large empty bed. Taking the bottle off his nightstand, he made short work of the contents. Sleep eluded him for a time, but that wasn't what bothered him. His memories kept him company until Morpheus claimed him for the rest of the day.**

**As the door closed with a resounding clang, the wind took it's cue and resumed it's mournful howling. Whipping through the poorly sealed door, the low timbered sound, varying with the force of the wind outside, seemed to recreate the echoing cry of the last vocalization heard in the desolate building.**

**Why?**

**The Daniel's Textile Mill was once a thriving asset to the growing populace of Toronto during the heyday of the Industrial Revolution. But now the reminders of a once prosperous time were stripped away with the advent of new and improved technology. Gone were the machines that repeatedly spewed forth the bolts of fabric that clothed a nation. All that was left were the reminders of an era long gone, remembered by a few. The huge cast iron plates that mounted the great roaring beasts to the floor. The skeletal shape remains of the electrical wiring. The corroded cables swinging in the stirring air. Pendulums counting out the last precious hours of the mill's existence.**

**In the corner of the building, untouched by the squares of moonlight lining the floor like a chess board, a rat could be overheard partaking of it's most opportune bounty. A little fresh meat to fortify itself against the coming winter.**

"**I tell ya Jimmy, it ain't like the old days. When you were able to work from spring through fall. And make a good chunk of change mind you. Then pack up the family for the winter and stay with the in-laws down in Tampa, collecting unemployment. Oh no, not anymore. The execs are the ones in the cozy office, while we're here freezing our butts off tearing down these old factories. Nope, not like the old days, not anymore."**

**Jimmy Chaison had heard this complaint a hundred times before from Ray Harter, casting his co-worker a smile as he nodded his head. "Yeah, ya got that right, Ray."**

"**I mean, I really should have taken that early retirement they offered. Then I wouldn't have to be going through this crap." Ray commented as he pulled open the door to the textile mill that was slated for demolition. At the age of sixty-one Ray Harter had been through three bosses, eighteen foremen, and had seen over a thousand general laborers come and go. But Ray remained. The die-hard worker: never late, didn't call in sick, but complained like the whole world was taking their problems out on him.**

**Looking around, Ray made a mental note of the interior structure of the building. **

"**That section has to be hit," he motioned towards the main support columns that **

**ran the length of room. Already figuring the easiest and least costly way, to his employers, to bring this behemoth down. Looking at the ceiling, Ray took in the immediate worth of the aluminum conduit and the remaining copper wire. "It shouldn't be too much of a prob…" **

**The sudden noise caused him to stop in mid speech. His eyes were drawn to the northwest corner of the building. At first, he couldn't see anything, but, as his vision acclimated to the low light, the scene registered before him, the ghastly visage became all too clear. Two rats battling in the corner. A scrap of food was being pulled between them. At first glance, he shuddered, but as his eyes focused upon the site, nausea gripped his gut. Clutching so tight he could barely breathe. Not just food, but a piece of flesh. Belonging to the body nestled in the midst of a pile of discarded cotton. The partly decomposed arm flung forward in appeal to the witnesses of her demise.**

"**Sweet Jesus" Ray whispered. Hardly aware that the utterance had left him.**

**Confused, Jimmy followed the look on his compatriots' face, the picture of the body before him would haunt his dreams for the rest of his life.**

**Instantly his stomach rebelled against his morning repast. Clasping his hand tightly over his mouth, Jimmy ran to the exit. Fleeing, or at least trying to, the picture before his eyes.**

**Even as his belly emptied it's contents in the cool crisp air of that sunny October afternoon, the knowledge that Jimmy Chaison gleaned inside the desolate building would be the ultimate reminder that in life there would be atrocities that he could not imagine, but only be a witness to.**

**End Chapter 2**


	3. Chapter 3

**The following characters don't belong to me, I'm just borrowing them with thanks to Sony Pictures and Mr. Parriott et al. There will be mature subject matter (The equivalent of L&O SVU i.e. language, sex, violence etc.), so if that offends move along. **

**At this point, let's get some response. Let me know what you think. Please, no one-liners, get serious. Beta's welcome.**

**Chapter 3**

"**Yeah, Nick Knight, I'm either in bed or incommunicado. Leave a message, I'll get back to you." Beep.**

"**Ah, Nick, I know you're not going to like this but, the Captain just called. He wants us in early tonight. Apparently there's been another body found in an abandoned factory. But this time it's in our jurisdiction and Reese wants us on it A.S.A.P."**

"**Hold on Tracy… I'm here." Nick turned his answering machine off and grabbed a pen from its holder. "Go ahead Tracy. Uh huh… Where?" He wrote down the address and replaced the pen. " I've got it. That's the old textile mill isn't it? OK, I'll meet you there in…" Nick paused, gauging the time remaining until dusk, when he would no longer be susceptible to the burning rays of the sun. "…Say forty minutes? Fine, see you then." **

**Nick returned the handset to the cradle and walked the few steps to the built-in refrigerator. Taking a moment to rub his hands over his tired eyes and continue up over his brow to run through his hair. Trying in vain to calm the errant locks that stood up at disorderly intervals. A testament to the troublesome sleep he endured. He pulled the door open and gazed at the nearly bare shelves. The top shelf contained his normal nourishment; four unlabeled bottles concealing not wine, as anyone would assume at first glance, but steer blood, its presence partially obscured by the thick green glass. The middle rack supported a plastic container, the color indistinguishable from the contents. The latest version of Natalie's 'blood substitute', a protein drink, purported to assist in Nick's return to mortality. His stomach lurched at the memory of the previous concoction. He had yet to attempt this one. Reaching up, Nick clasped his hand around the neck of the cold green bottle, his choice of breakfast made.**

**Before the door closed, his gaze fell to the bottom shelf of the refrigerator. The carton of Chinese food left over from a day with Natalie. The memory brought a smile to his lips. She'd spent the morning with him watching videos and fell asleep in his arms. The essence of her remained in the room. Or at least, truth be told, the still lingering scent of her perfume. The bottle of Eternal Lovers was a gift he left on the keyboard of her computer at the morgue. That and a single red rose. **

**Thoughts of Natalie accompanied him upstairs as he drank from the bottle. She provided the anchor that kept him from being pulled out to sea on the tide of loneliness and despair. From the moment he awoke on her dissection table, the initial shock of discovering what he was, was quickly overcome by the reasoning of her analytical mind, she offered her services in his quest to regain his mortality. The work she secretly does has brought him closer than ever to the attainment of his goal; Freedom from the ever present desire for blood.**

**A life in the sun. **

**Hope for the future settled comfortably inside Nick as he finished dressing for work. Comfortable jeans, light blue cotton shirt with long sleeves and a black vest finished his ensemble. He returned downstairs, fastening the buttons of the shirt cuffs as he went, alternating his hold on the half-full bottle. Careful not to spill any.**

**Replacing the now corked bottle back to the top shelf he grabbed the protein drink and walked to the kitchen.**

**The mixture wasn't as thick as its predecessors and there was no discernibly offensive odor. Taking a mouthful, Nick waited a moment for the gag reflex. When that didn't occur, he swallowed. No discomfort, unlike the previous times when the presence of something other than his normal diet would cause him to immediately vomit. **

**He drank the rest, this time analyzing the 'flavor'. The slightly metallic taste was almost reminiscent of drinking cow blood. His left eyebrow rose at this realization. Increased iron content? Well Nat, maybe you're on to something he mused.**

**He poured some into a goblet, put away the remainder, and finished the glass with a silent toast to Natalie…Soon.**

**Nick grabbed his holster and gun from the drawer of his secretary. Fished his watch from the small ornate wooden box on top, grabbed his leather jacket and left the loft. His mind forwarding to the start of his shift as a Homicide Detective for Toronto's Metropolitan Police Department's 96****th**** Precinct.**

**End Chapter 3**


	4. Chapter 4

**The following characters don't belong to me, I'm just borrowing them with thanks to Sony Pictures and Mr. Parriott et al. There will be mature subject matter (The equivalent of L&O SVU i.e. language, sex, violence etc.), so if that offends move along. **

**Let me know what you think. **

**Morning Memories**

**Chapter 4**

**The sunny afternoon did wonders for not just her spirit but for her apartment as well. With the curtains no longer blocking the daylight, the incentive to work was overpowering. Natalie scrubbed her apartment literally from top to bottom. Long neglected shelving gleamed after the removal of a fine sheen of dust, cobwebs no longer darkened the corners of her walls; the spiders for now, evicted from their residence in the far-reaching nooks and crannies. **

**Even Sidney was not able to escape the cleaning machine that ran amok through his domain. The last of her chores involved the vacuuming of the stalwart companion, much to his chagrin. The hose accessory did wonders in the removal of the last remaining summer fur and dander, but left his coat tufted and awry. Escaping to the bedroom closet, Sidney began the arduous task of returning his sleek coat to normal. His mistress occasionally glanced his way but Sidney remained indifferent, his ire indicative in the way he swished his tail and refused to look at her. 'Hmmmf. If you choose to treat your **_**toys**_** in that manner, Fine. **_**I**_** refuse to be treated as such.' With a final indignant flip of his head, Sidney sauntered under the richly appointed bed, curled up, and promptly fell asleep.**

**With the last of her self appointed jobs finally finished, Natalie procured her dinner from the frozen array in her freezer, popped it in the microwave, and went to her bathroom to clean up before her meal. Only intending a sponge bath, the reflection in the mirror recoiled at the sight before her eyes. How could anyone get so dirty, **_**Cleaning!**_** Without further thought, Natalie shed her clothing and stepped into the shower. **

**Minutes later, she emerged cleaned and refreshed. Taking a few more minutes to dress, she walked to the kitchen, the remainder of her day's activities now appearing in her mind. Finish eating and then off to the university with the latest of Nick's blood samples. The series of protein supplements she provided over the last two weeks should provide her with, hopefully, promising news regarding Nick's tolerance to substances other than hemoglobin. With an inward sigh, Natalie felt that it would end up the same. Lately Nick complained about the taste and affects of her concoctions, but none the less, tried them. His faith in her finding a cure strengthened his resolve. He would try, so she would continue making them. Not just for him, but for them and their future together, if there was to be one.**

**The meal eaten, the blood samples safely stowed in her purse and her keys in her hand, Natalie took one last look at the days' accomplishment. The reflecting gleam of the sunset on her coffee table created a subtle response on her face. The corner of her mouth curled upward as she closed the door. The lock snapped securely in place and she proceeded towards the stairs. One major task was done; another was to be continued.**

**The late afternoon traffic did not distract Natalie from the plans that formulated in her head. John Buhl assured her that she would have the lab to herself after 5:00 PM. Risking a glance at her watch while still watching the stop and go traffic, Natalie smiled. By the time she reached the University, the facility would be clear for the most part. The majority of the students, having finished their mid-term exams, would make their way home for the holiday. She would have virtually unrestrained access to the Tunneling Electron Microscope for the next few hours and she planned to make the most of the available time. The research facilities at the morgue paled in comparison to those at the University of Toronto. Alas, there were no endowments or donations made to the city's' forensic department. Let alone a suitable budget to provide anything above the basics needed for the day-to-day operations of the much needed and often ignored sub-division of Toronto Law Enforcement.**

**The trip downtown progressively went smoother. The line of cars heading out of the city was now bumper to bumper. The road inward had more freedom. The evening influx of revelers would not be seen for a few more hours. Natalie quickened her pace and soon pulled into the parking lot outside the Science Building.**

**The halls of the immense structure were nearly deserted. Occasionally Natalie would pass a student or maintenance worker or her hearing would pick up the faint conversation of individuals out of eyesight. Making her way to the third floor Organic's lab took no time at all. Arriving at the door, she frowned at the darkened opaque glass. "John promised he'd be here." She muttered to herself. A light flashed inside. Someone was still here. Natalie rapped twice on the glass to announce her presence and pushed open the door a foot.**

"**John? It's me Natalie."**

"**Oh, hi. Come on in."**

"**I'm not interrupting anything am I?" She queried.**

" **No, not at all. I'm just finishing up on the lab work for my thesis."**

**Natalie looked at the array of pulsing equipment that took so much of John's time these days. Several Petrie dishes were spread out in a line underneath a series of photo-emitters. The lights ran the gauntlet of invisible through the visible spectrum. The darkened glass shielded the researchers' eyes from the harmful bandwidths, but the effects were still enchanting. The colors playing against the lower portion of his lab coat reminded her of twinkling Christmas lights.**

"**This batch is the last. Just a few more minutes and I can shut it down. I've been shoring up the cell structure to make the seeds more resistant to drought. Without compromising the nutritive value or the reproductive capabilities. If all goes well, by this time next year, I'll not only have my Doctorate, but the first practical harvest of 'Buhl's Bulgar' will be ready." He said with a self-satisfied grin.**

**Natalie couldn't help but laugh at the seed's name, or the look on his face. "Buhl's Bulgar?"**

"**Yeah, I wasn't too crazy about 'John's Barley Corn'" The grin widened to become a full toothed smile.**

**After the shared moment of humor, Natalie asked. "So this test is for…?"**

"**Actually, it's the last of the series. I've taken dozens of slices from the last growth series and repeatedly exposed them to the light spectrum emitted by the sun. The separators keep the bandwidths differentiated. That way, I know which wavelength is the most destructive. After repeating the tests, I examine the cell structure for damage. Then I focus on altering the Cellulose in the walls to increase its' resistance." **

**The way he spoke implied an ease of operation that Natalie knew never existed. John's work had consumed the last five years of his life. If in fact he was this close, Natalie was happy for him. His seed could eventually make famine a distant memory for future generations.**

"**That's it for tonight." John said with a flick of a switch. The emitter lights shut down and John capped each dish, removed them and placed the entire batch in the lab's refrigerated storage unit. "I've got 'John Henry' all fired up and ready to go, Natalie. I've got a few things in my office to finish up before I take off, so if you're all set, I'll be going now. Just remember to lock up when you're done."**

"**Sure John, thanks for every thing. I'll catch you later." She said to his retreating form.**

**Natalie took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. Collecting her thoughts and grabbing her purse, she made a beeline to the T.E.M. After retrieving several slides from the shelf, she made quick work of the set up. But after a couple of hours examining both white and red blood cells a sigh of defeat escaped her lips.**

**No change… no improvement. The vampire element was still present and in the same amount.**

"**Well Lambert, you'll just have to see if the new regimen works," she said to herself. Her latest supplement for Nick not only included the standard protein mix but also included a liquid iron additive and a touch of artificial plasma. Hopefully this would show promise. **

**Natalie turned the monitor off and flipped the switch on the power transformer. The screen went blank, the motor whirled to a stop, and silence filled the cavernous room. As she methodically went about retrieving the slides for incineration, an idea popped into her head. The bandwidth separator! If she could just find out which wavelength affected Nick the most, she might come up with some means to allow Nick some semblance of a normal, human life. He tolerates evening light more than morning, which has to mean something she thought.**

**With renewed purpose in her stride, Natalie prepped enough slides to fill the spectrum chamber. Insuring that the barriers were still in place, she systematically started to flip the chambers on. Making note of which Wavelength was being emitted and any reactions that occurred from the exposure.**

**Several hours and many repeated trials later, Natalie closed the door to the lab. The exhausting work was not evident to the security guard as he opened the main door to allow her egress. Boy, she seems mighty happy for someone who's leaving at midnight he mused. As he started to make his way back to his station, the guard did a double take at the departing woman. Out of the corner of his eye, he could have sworn he saw her jump up with her fist in the air. Just like those old Toyota commercials. Shaking his head, he returned to his video monitors and chair. His mind now focused on his upcoming break.**

**End Chapter 4 **


	5. Chapter 5

**The following characters don't belong to me, I'm just borrowing them with thanks to Sony Pictures and Mr. Parriott et al. There will be mature subject matter (The equivalent of L&O SVU i.e. language, sex, violence etc.), so if that offends, move along. **

**Morning Memories**

**Chapter 5**

**The scene before him was slightly more than organized chaos. Nick pulled his Caddy next to his partner's car and made his way towards the group of people near the entrance of the building. Tracy was interviewing two men while the morgue attendants were wheeling the victim out the door. **

"**Guys, make sure this one gets priority. And have Jerry send over copies of the reports of the other two victims.**

"**Sure detective, as soon as possible."**

"**Gentlemen, that should be all for now on this end," she said, turning to face the demolition workers. "If you don't mind, would you go with Officer Miller down to the precinct, she'll take your statements there."**

**The two men made their way to the awaiting squad car and climbed in. **

**Upon seeing that Nick arrived, Tracy wave him over, turning the pages back in her notebook to give him the update on what she had so far. "Well partner, it looks like we have a sicko running around. The M.E. said the victim's neck was broken, crushed from the looks of it."**

"**Any ID on the body?" he inquired.**

"**No, nothing. It seems to be a repeating pattern though, victim is female," she began her reciting from her notes " drug user apparently from the needle marks on her arms. Judging from her clothing, a working girl. From what the Captain said earlier, Twenty-two's got a couple of cases with the same MO." As much as she tried, Tracy could not hide the expression of disgust on her features as she continued, "time of death between thirty-six to forty-eight hours ago. She was cut up pretty bad prior to being dumped and then the rats…"**

"**You saying she died somewhere else?"**

"**According to the ME, the number of lacerations would have left a considerable amount of blood, yet there was hardly any when she was found. That fits with the pattern of the previous two"**

"**OK, anything else."**

"**Just that so far, the only prints forensics has been able to pull have been from the guys who found the body. The door to the loading dock had smeared dust but no prints. Whoever's doing this is being very careful about not leaving any clues."**

"**How was it that she came to be found?"**

**Tracy cocked her head in the direction of the departing patrol car. "Ray Harter and his partner Jimmy Chaison work for Rockford Demolition, they reported the body." Tracy glanced down at her notes again, "according to them, the building was slated to be demolished next week and they were here to plot the order in which it came down." Closing the notepad, Tracy sighed, "I'll check with Vice and see if anyone recognizes her."**

"**Sounds like a plan. Go ahead and I'll meet you at the precinct in twenty minutes. I'm gonna check out the building before I go." **

**Without waiting for her reply, Nick made his way through the entrance and for a moment, Tracy just stood there watching her partners' retreating form. Consternation caused her brows to draw together. What is going on with him lately? She wondered, shaking her head as she turned and made her way to her car. For the last few days Nick's mood has been shifting like the sands of the desert during a windstorm. Two days ago, she was the recipient of a ten-minute lecture on why she shouldn't drink coffee in his Caddy. All because the lid she placed on the seat wasn't completely dry and a few drops landed on the upholstery. Then last night he apologized at the beginning of their shift and proceeded to do everything to make it up to her. Which she didn't mind so much, when that included finishing the report on the Jackson robbery/homicide. But even so, after eight hours of that, he was getting on her nerves. Now today his attitude is indifferent and his face is a mask. No outward signs of emotion that she could see. He didn't even object to her suggestions on how to proceed with this case! God! She thought with exasperation. If he keeps this up, I'm gonna end up seeing a shrink! With that thought, Tracy slammed her car door closed, started the engine and sped out of the nearly vacant lot. Taking her frustration out on her accelerator and leaving flying stones and a plume of dust in her wake.**

**Nick wandered through the mill; carefully skirting the last of the forensics personnel as they finished gathering prints, bits of paper or anything else they thought would be pertinent to the case. He stopped at the body's former location now outlined as best as it could be, considering the amount of cotton wading that had covered the victim. His enhanced sense of smell picked up the odors of the vermin that inhabited this area, the smell of blood; dried now, but still retaining the scent of terror. And something else, faintly discernable. What it was, he wasn't sure, but the aroma wasn't natural to the current environment.**

"**Excuse me," he said to the nearest tech "there's still some spots of blood left in that area, make sure it's all collected and sent to the lab."**

"**Look Detective…Knight isn't it. We've gathered enough samples to keep the lab busy for weeks. We're all through with this sector." The man pulled at his cuffs as if it was beneath him to associate with a mere cop. "Besides I've have more pressing things to see to." Turning as in dismissal, his eyes displaying annoyance, he started to make his way to his previous assignment.**

"**Now just wait a minute," as the man turned, Nick glanced at his name tag and returned the glare "Simmons. In case you haven't noticed, someone died here. Now you may not care, but I certainly do. And since this is my investigation you're going to make sure that everything possible is done to insure that whoever did this gets stopped before it happens again." The level of Nick's voice rose to the point where he now had the attention of the other people in the building. Nick moved closer to Simmons, anger radiating in waves. "And if that means you spend the rest of your shift collecting samples, then you'll do it! Have I made myself clear?" **

**A cold chill invaded Simmons spine, "Yes," he swallowed, his mouth suddenly dry " perfectly." Anything to escape the wrath of the man before him. Simmons looked back into the face before him, the meek look of compliance was all it took for Nick to back off. Trying desperately to regain some semblance of control, Simmons straightened his jacket and moved towards his associates. The fear he displayed quickly masked by a confidence he did not have. **

**Knight moved on, taking a wandering path towards the exit.**

**Trying not to betray his true reactions from moments before, Simmons called out " Hey Andy," a mousy young man approached, " makes sure that all the blood in this area is gathered for processing." As Andy stooped to do the bidding of his supervisor, Jack Simmons strode towards the rest of his associates. **

"**Boy, you really know what buttons to push, don't you Jack," a black headed tech whispered. " Don't you know who that is?" He asked, the bushy eyebrows on his forehead raising to form a straight line. At Simmons look of wonder, the man continued. "That's Nick Knight."**

"**Yeah, I know that." Simmons replied, the name not ringing any bells. "From the 96****th****?" still no clue. " He's the one Natalie Lambert has the hots for!"**

**At the mention of Natalie, dawning hit Simmons with a vengeance. For the last two months, he'd been trying to get the coroner to go out with him. Just recently, he had to turn his sights towards other fair game within his sphere of influence. Jack Simmons was used to getting whatever and whomever he wanted. His good looks, dominate style, and of course his families' money and political ties played an important role in his attitude. Simply stated, he was spoiled. For almost two months, Jack had plied his wiles in an effort to get Natalie in his arms and ultimately in his bed. Flowers, gifts and his endearing charm all failed to woo the quietly reserved woman. That she was brilliant, inquisitive, and ultimately the finest coroner he had ever worked with went completely over his head. All Jack Simmons wanted was another conquest. Her writhing body beneath his, screaming his name in ecstasy as he thrust himself into her. **

"**You're kidding?" He could not believe it! "Knight? Yeah right," he scoffed as he spied the cop nearing the door. So that's why she wasn't interested. His coworkers had ribbed him unmercifully after his blatant attempts at seducing Natalie. Now seemed the perfect time for retribution for the brow beating he received from Knight. "Well, it looks like our hot little coroner isn't taking care of Wonderboy is she. From the way he's acting, I'd say he wasn't getting enough."**

"**Jack, you better watch yourself, man." His worried companion warned. Lifting his head and indicating the man at the door.**

**Heedless of the warning, Simmons continued. Uncaring that the object of his scorn could hear **_**every **_**word. "Or it could be she's in the market for a real man. Someone to satisfy her needs." **

**Nick paused with his hand on the doorknob. He'd been the brunt of jokes about his unusual lifestyle many times during his long association with mortals, which never bothered him. But to hear this sorry excuse for a man, degrade Natalie caused his anger to rise. His grip on the knob tightened. The metal valiantly tried to maintain its shape.**

"**Maybe, I'll stop by and see her after my shift, you know, offer her a little distraction." **

**The metal groaned its' resistance. **

"**Hell, we might even make it back to work in a couple of days. That is if we ever get out of bed. She'll never want to leave after I give her the high hard one." Simmons finished with lecherous chuckle. His mind envisioning the things he'd do to Natalie. The pleasure he'd get from her. And later, he'd flaunt her in Knights' face. Taking a breath, Simmons prepared for his next spiel. **

**Giving up, the doorknob snapped. **

**And so did Nick.**

**Throughout his long existence, Nick had struggled to maintain control of the evil within him. Every dark emotion or thought that brought forth the vampire, also fed the beast's desire for revenge. In turn, fueling the need to take action against those who wronged him. Satisfied only with blood. But not now, this time his anger fanned the flames of vengeance in the man. **

**Nick looked down at the crushed handle he held and then let it fall. The resounding clatter caused four sets of eyes to view the cause of their disturbance. What three sets saw frightened them. The fourth beheld terror. **

**Balling his fists, Nick Knight turned and walked towards Simmons. His deliberate strides quickly closed the gap between them. Reaching out he grabbed his intended target by the collar of the lab coat, lifted him several inches off the ground and pressed his body against the nearby wall. The grip then twisted just enough to effectively cut the air supply to Simmons' body. Jack desperately clawed at Nick's arm to no avail.**

**Nick look into Simmons' eyes, his face mere inches away. **

"**If I Ever...!"**

**A soft whisper fed his anger. **

_**KILL HIM!**_

"**See you near Natalie!"**

_**HE WANTS WHATS YOURS!**_

"**I'll kill you."**

**Just as his lips began to turn blue, Nick released him. A smile turning the corners of his mouth as he watched Simmons collapse to the floor, his chest heaving, trying to draw oxygen into his worthless body. Satisfied, Nick was about to leave, when the whisper in his ear returned.**

_**KILL HIM!**_

**Nick spun his head around looking for the source. "Who said that?"**

**End Chapter 5 **


	6. Chapter 6

**The following characters don't belong to me, I'm just borrowing them with thanks to Sony Pictures and Mr. Parriott et al. There will be mature subject matter (The equivalent of L&O SVU i.e. language, sex, violence etc.), so if that offends, move along. **

**Morning Memories**

**Chapter 6**

**The stunned silence was all that replied. Through now golden eyes did Nick scan the surrounding area. Squinting, lest the mortals discover his secret, the path of vision revealed no newcomers. The current inhabitants of the late, Daniel's Textile Mill kept their countenance focused upon the crumpled heap that represented the formerly arrogant, tech. The man with the continuous eyebrows took a moment to stare dumbfounded at the detective before him. The look upon Knight's face was not of superiority, not of self-gratification, but confusion, mystery, utter bewilderment. **

"**Who said what detective?"**

**Nick did not reply. Instead he left the building. He knew none of the technicians spoke, they were not close enough. The disembodied voice came from right beside him, and…somehow, the voice was familiar. **

**The voice and his puzzlement continued to plague him during the trip to the precinct. When he reached his destination and parked the car Nick decided the answer could wait. It wouldn't do him any good to allow frustration to interfere with the work he had to do tonight. Opening the door, Nick became aware that the vampire within was prominent. The sounds of the night filled his ears. Traffic, voices, and the ever-present heartbeats of humanity bombarded him. With a low growl, he opened the trunk and rifled through the duffel bag searching for relief. His hand closed around the smooth metal flask. With a sigh he released the cap and guzzled the contents. The cold liquid was satisfying the vampire…for now. Nick tossed the empty container back into the bag and closed the trunk lid. The night wasn't over and he had a dead body to identify and her killer to catch. His mind now focused, Nick entered the building and returned to work.**

**Rain, nature's cleansing system. Falling as a quiet mist, joining its' brethren, congregating to form drops that wash away the layer of decay that coats everything tangible. Life breathes a sigh of relief, refreshed and invigorated, starting a new cycle only to be covered again in the silky embrace of death.  
**

**Just what she needed. After walking four blocks to her car, remembering too late she'd left her keys on the bar and had to retrieve them, it started to rain. Lightly at first, the cotton jacket faired well against the cold, but it wasn't waterproof. By the time she had her keys the water was just seeping through. As she stood under the overhang the rain continued to come down. Damn, she thought, I'm going to get soaked! Probably catch Pneumonia, won't that be just great. Oh well, putting off the inevitable is not going to do me any good. With that thought in mind, she pulled her coat a little tighter and began the return trip to her car. The streets were quiet at this hour. The echoing retort of her heels on pavement incongruent with the sound of water gurgling in the street, as it almost seemed to mimic the small creek that ran behind her house as a child. **

**No sooner had the memory faded that she realized she'd been caught in the past for longer then she thought. She arrived at her car, fished the keys from her purse and opened the door. The sudden impact of her head with the car's roof cut off the image of sanctuary from the rain. Blinding light flashed over her eyes and pain swept through her. Disorientation from the blow prevented her from realizing that she was now being pushed face down onto the seat of her car. Her attempts to struggle for breath were in vain. A hand kept firm pressure on the back of her skull. Another she felt around her throat. Blackness reached out and encompassed her in its warm embrace.**

**The car started and pulled away from the curb. The action was normal; nothing out of place and the vehicle went forth, paused at the stop sign and resumed the forward momentum that transported its two occupants away from the place of violence of just a few moments before.**

**The rain continued. Harder now, as if nature knew it had to remove the baneful stain of what had occurred. The continuous drops scrubbed the scene, all physical traces of the former occupants were eliminated, but the aura of evil still remained.**

**End Chapter 6**


	7. Chapter 7

**Morning Memories**

**Chapter 7**

"**We've got a positive ID on our victim, Nick," Tracy said over her shoulder as her partner entered the room. "Perkins in vice says she's Elizabeth 'Betty' Grant. Worked the downtown area near the Skydome. Specialized in picking up johns after concerts. She'd been arrested numerous times for prostitution, theft, and disorderly conduct. He also said that lately, she'd got hooked on heroin, supposedly by her new pimp."**

"**Any chance he's the one who killed her?" Nick inquired.**

"**I thought about that, but apparently her 'business manager', one Charles Nofri, has been in the county lockup for the last week. Tried to run down one of the johns that another of his girls picked up. He stiffed her and Nofri tried to collect. They're holding him on attempted vehicular homicide. So, no, he couldn't be responsible for Grant."**

"**You're sure?"**

"**According to the preliminaries from forensics, yeah."**

"**Damn. Ok any idea when she was last seen?"**

"**No one's seen her on her regular turf in about a week. Perkins figured she took a holiday when Nofri was picked up."**

"**Obviously that wasn't the case." Nick ran his hands through his hair as he sat at his desk. Amid his expected paperwork were two additional files. "What's this, Trace?" He indicated the new folders.**

"**Those are the copies of the reports on the two previous victims. I figured we could go through them and see if we could find anything that the others missed. I've just now started on the first victim." Tracy lifted the cover page for emphasis. "Louise Shelly, age thirty-eight, prostitute, found two weeks ago at an empty building down by the lakefront. The old St. George Hotel. She'd…"**

**Nick interrupted her. "Did you say empty? Who found her?"**

**She scanned down the page. "Uh…here it is: Richard Stone."**

"**How did he happen to be there?"**

**] "Says here he owns a construction company and was there with his men to start work on the place."**

"**Construction, not demolition?"**

"**Yeah, why?"**

"**Just wondering. How about the second body?" As Tracy dug through the paperwork, Nick picked up the phone and dialed the morgue. "Hi Grace. Nat in?" He listened a moment. "No, I'm calling to see if the autopsy was finished on the Jane Doe that came in. Yeah that's the one. Ok, we'll be there in twenty minutes. Bye." **

**Tracy couldn't help but notice the look of disappointment that crossed her partner's face as he inquired about Natalie. 'Boy, he's got it bad,' she thought. Nick never discussed his relationship to the Coroner with her, but green as she was, even she recognized the clues Nick left behind. He had feelings for her but wouldn't admit them to anyone. **

"**Here it is. Jean LaCarre, found in a city-owned apartment building just off Lakeshore Blvd."**

"**City-owned? Slated for demolition?"**

"**It doesn't say. Why? What are you getting at?" Tracy stared at him intently, trying to visually decipher his thought pattern.**

"**It's just that I read a while ago that the St. George was going to be partially reconstructed and certain sections of it were to be demolished to make room for parking," he answered. "And I was thinking that there may be a link in these murders."**

"**You mean the demolition companies?"**

"**Right."**

"**But Stone's company dealt with construction. He didn't say anything about demolishing the structure. And there's no indication that the city is going to tear down the apartment building."**

"**No, there isn't, but no one has checked either, have they?"**

**Tracy finally caught on to his reasoning. "You're right, so we make arrangements for the day shift to contact City Hall about the apartment building and check with Stone about any demolition going on at the St. George." Tracy started scrawling notes on her pad, her mind totally on the supposition Nick proposed.**

"**You got it." Nick took a moment to organize the files on his desk, then stood up and pulled his jacket on. When he started walking away, he turned to his partner. "You coming?"**

"**Where?" she inquired.**

"**The morgue, you know, victim number three? Autopsy, information? Case to solve?"**

**Tracy turned red with embarrassment. Here she was zoning out and Nick had to be the one to catch her at it. 'You're getting as bad as he is Vetter,' she thought to herself, 'yeah, it's probably just rubbing off from him.' She grabbed her coat and hurried after Nick. **

**The trip to the morgue was uneventful, but once there, the two detectives did find some interesting details regarding the latest victim. According to the autopsy report, the same person who killed Louise Shelly and Jean LaCarre murdered Betty Grant. The cuts and bruises were the same; the killer was left- handed, as indicated by the angle and penetration of the knife wounds. And, as with the others, her neck was broken. The autopsy showed that the cervical vertebrae were crushed by repeated impacts. Little bruising occurred due to blood loss, and the actual instrument couldn't be determined other than to say that whatever it was, was rounded with a small lip. Same as the other two with one very important exception. This time physical evidence was found on the body.**

"**I found a powder of some sort embedded in the neck. I sent it to the lab for analysis and should be getting the data in a few minutes," the coroner reported. "If you can spare the time, I'll call up and see if they have the results."**

**They waited until the results were in. Sand, lime, and clay. Cement.**

"**Could you check with Jerry and see if he found anything similar?" Nick asked the coroner.**

"**I think it's time we have our talk with Mr. Stone, Nick."**

"**I think it's past time, Trace. Do you have his home address?"**

"**Right here partner," Tracy said as she patted her coat pocket. "Let's go."**

**As he drove to the address Tracy gave him, Nick's thoughts returned to the confrontation he had with Simmons. **

**Someone had spoken to him, urging him to kill. He wasn't mistaken. But who? LaCroix was in the Far East on business, and he had never known his sire to influence him from any substantial distance. Besides, there would be no reason to. Of late, their relationship, though not what you would call friendly by any means, was at least amicable. He had sensed no other of his kind in the area. The answer eluded him just like the spectral voice.**

'**That voice!' He frowned in concentration. For all the blessings and curses that resulted from his perfect memory, the identity stayed just out of reach. He knew the voice but couldn't attach it to a face. The feeling of helplessness ate at him. His exasperation rose; he could feel the tenuous hold he had over his emotions slip just a bit. **

'**Stop this, Knight,' he chastised himself. 'No need to get bent out of shape just because you can't place a voice you heard. Clamp down on this before you repeat your earlier performance.'**

**He took a deep breath and forced his attention to the road. He heard Tracy prattle on about the latest relocation position suggested by her father. Of course, it would be advancement and yes, it was most likely 'safer.' After all he was just looking out for his little girl and wanted what was best for her. **

**Nick occasionally grunted an acknowledgement and nodded his head, but his mind was elsewhere. He thought about the comments Simmons made about Natalie. Never would Natalie have anything to do with Simmons, not if he had anything to say in the matter. **

**Simmons was scum as far as he was concerned. Self-centered, conceited, and if the rumors were correct, abusive, too. He'd never let him near her, let alone harm her. No one would. Unconsciously Nick tightened his grip on the steering wheel. If it weren't for her, he would have moved on months ago. **

**His time in any given place was limited by the fact that he didn't age. He could vary his time depending on how involved he was with the mortals around him. His own fear of what he was, sometimes pressed him into relocation sooner then he wanted, as was the instance when his previous partner was killed. He should have been the one in the plane, not Schanke. His grief afterwards pressed his hand. He made the arrangements to leave but didn't.**

**Natalie had come to him, shocked, angry, and fully prepared to vent her fury. Instead, she not only made him realize that running away wouldn't solve anything, but that in doing so, he would leave behind the one thing he would regret for the rest of his existence. Natalie. Try as he might, he could no longer deny his feelings for her. That only made things worse. His form of love would only lead to her death. The craving of the vampire could overpower the desires of the man. He couldn't risk that. Not with her. Not as he is now, but soon. In the meantime, he would protect her at all costs. **

**Once more the image of Simmons came to mind. His anger edged up a notch.**

**He would kill anyone who tried to harm her!**

**Pulling in front of a large warehouse made Nick think that his partner had given him the wrong information regarding Stone's address. "You sure this is Stone's home address? It looks like his business."**

**Tracy double-checked her notes. "Yep, this is the place. Maybe he has an apartment in the back? We should check it out regardless."**

**Nick shot a hard look at her. "That's what we're going to do, but if you screwed up the address…" He got out of the car and slammed the door with more force than was necessary and stalked to the office entrance. **

**Tracy couldn't believe what he just said. She was completely stunned! Open-mouthed, she watched him round the front of the caddy. How dare he! Who did he think he was talking to, some first year cadet? **

**She got out and took her frustration out on the innocent vehicle just as her partner did. The action disturbed not only the quiet of the neighborhood, but an occupant on the second floor of the building that the two detectives stood in front of.**

"**What the hell is that all about, Nick? You know I wouldn't make a mistake like that. This is the home address listed for Richard Stone. And if you don't believe me, call in and have someone double check."**

**Nick just glared at her and for several moments, and Tracy returned his look. The staring contest was cut short by the sound of a door opening and closing and footsteps coming down some stairs behind the steel door.**

"**Who's there?" was the muffled inquiry.**

"**Metro Police. Are you Richard Stone?" Tracy asked.**

"**Yes," he replied "what do you want?"**

**Tracy continued, but not before she cast a smug look at her frowning partner. "We need to ask you some questions concerning the body that was found at the St. George Hotel."**

**The lock clicked and the door was opened. They were invited upstairs after displaying their badges to the construction worker.**

"**You were the one who found the body of Louise Shelly?" Nick began the inquiry, taking careful assessment of the man before him. Stone fit his name in that he looked like he was carved out of granite. **

"**Was that her name? Yeah, I found her. In the boiler room down in the basement." He shook his head at the memory. "Look, I already told you guys all I know. Why are you here?"**

"**There's been another murder similar to Louise Shelly's."**

"**And you think I have something to do with it? That's bullshit!" He rose and started to pace the room. "It's bad enough I may lose my business because of this, but there's no way in hell you're gonna put a murder rap on me."**

"**We're not accusing you of anything, Mr. Stone" Tracy interjected. "We're just trying to get a little more information. So please just sit down." She indicated the chair he had recently vacated and waited until he reseated himself. **

**When Stone was settled, Tracy quickly glanced at her partner. His face was unreadable. She continued on. "Mr. Stone, we've uncovered some new information and we're just here to verify some things." If this man was the suspect they were looking for, Tracy didn't want to tip her hand. " You have seven other men working for you, is that correct?" **

**Stone nodded. This impromptu meeting was taking its toll. She could see it in his harried expression. "Yes, I grew up with these guys. I know them like I know my own family. Hell they are my family! Now enough of this horseshit. What's going on? Are they on your list, too! Hell, if I didn't know better, I'd think that Speciale sent you to harass me."**

**At the mention of this new individual, Nick once again, made his presence known. He preferred to stay on the sidelines and let Tracy field the questions while he gauged the reactions. So far, Stone seemed to be honest in his protestations of his innocence and the vouching he made in regards to his men. Nick was about to advise his young associate that they were essentially wasting their time until the mention of Speciale.**

"**What do you mean by that, Mr. Stone?" Nick questioned; his gaze fixed on the man's eyes.**

**Richard Stone blew out a long breath. "Look, I run a small construction company and between licenses, permits, taxes, worker's comp, etceteras," he counted off the items on his fingers for emphasis, "I'm having a hard time just staying afloat as it is. I can't make any realistic bids on any major construction around here because the larger companies undercut me every time."**

"**Then how did you end up winning the job at the St George?"**

"**I didn't. Speciale underbid me on that one too. I had no choice but to subcontract the work from him. Hell, I've got bills to pay and my men to take care of." Stone got up and resumed his pacing. "Not only was I barely getting by on this job, but to add insult to injury, I may end up bankrupt because of it!" **

**Nick noted the look of frustration. "Why is that?"**

"**Let me enlighten you a little bit about construction contracts, Detective. Time is money in this field. I received a down payment at the start of this job. That covers initial materials and some labor. After so much work is complete, payment number two comes in and so on and so forth. But between payments, work has to be done within a specific time frame. You following me?"**

**Both listeners nodded their heads.**

"**Now if the work isn't done when specified, the original contractor can cancel the job and require that all monies be paid back. Regardless of how much work was done, or the materials used or anything else.**

**Since that woman was found, I haven't been allowed back to finish my contract. Speciale is gonna have me up for breach of contract and I'll lose everything. You hear me, everything!"**

"**And you think he's somehow responsible for the murders?" Tracy asked incredulously.**

"**I didn't say that, but I wouldn't put it past the slimy bastard. He's done some underhanded things to other small companies. Pretty much the same that I'm experiencing. And if I can't finish this, I'm done."**

**Nick and Tracy exchanged looks of understanding. Considering the information they had now, they were possibly looking at a new suspect. Nick was quite sure that Richard Stone wasn't the man they were looking for. He rose from his chair and Tracy followed his lead.**

"**Thank you for your time, Mr. Stone. If we need anything else, we'll be in touch." Nick said as he opened the door, Tracy right behind him.**

"**That's it? When can I get back to finish my job, huh?"**

**Nick just looked at him but Tracy volunteered, "We'll see what we can do. OK?"**

**Stone nodded mutely as the two of them left.**

**The ride back to the precinct was quiet. Each of them caught up in their own thoughts on the new information they had from the talk with Richard Stone. In addition, Tracy was still peeved at her partner and decided she would wait until he apologized for his rude behavior. The silence followed them right up to the time they reached their desks. When the booming voice of their Captain shattered the quiet.**

"**Knight! My office. Now!"**

'**Looks like I'm not the only one he's pissed off tonight.' Tracy thought as she watched the two of them disappear behind the closing door.**

**End Chapter 7**


	8. Chapter 8

**The following characters don't belong to me, I'm just borrowing them with thanks to Sony Pictures and Mr. Parriott et al. There will be mature subject matter (language, sex, violence etc.), so if that offends move along.**

**Morning Memories**

**Chapter 8**

**Joe Reese closed the door behind his star Detective and motioned him to sit in the chair in front of his desk. As he walked around to his own chair, he took a moment to run his hands over his face. **

**"What's up Cap?" Nick prompted when Reese's silence started to make him worried.**

"**You know I don't beat around the bush, so I'll get right to the point." Joe picked up the folder from the center of his desk, opened it, quickly scanned the report, and then held it out for Nick to peruse. "This is a complaint I received twenty minutes ago from Jack Simmons, charging you with assault. Now, you want to tell me what happened?" His inquiry was punctuated as he placed his hands on the desk and leaned forward, fully expecting an answer from the silent man before him.**

"**I was doing my job. Simmons was lax in collecting evidence." Nick responded. His voice edged with impatience. This charge was a joke. He continued when he saw his captain nod "I got there and apparently Simmons and his crew were finishing up. I walked over to where the body was found, saw additional evidence still at the location and told Simmons to make sure that it was all collected." Nick tossed the report to the desk.**

"**And this prompted you to, and I quote," Reese retrieved the open file "knock me into the wall and attempt to choke me…"**

"**Cap it wasn't like that at all…"**

"**Well tell me what it WAS like."**

" **I might have took offence at something he said."**

" **Something that would warrant this?" Shaking the folder in his hand, giving emphasis to his question. "What was it?"**

**Nick hesitated and cursed himself simultaneously. His relationship with Natalie was complicated, he preferred to keep quiet. Enough gossip and speculation was running through the mill as it was. He didn't need to grease the wheels.**

"**Look Cap…"**

"**WHAT WAS IT?"**

**Nick shrank back into the chair and hung his head. **

"**WELL?"**

"**Joe…" Although Reese was 'pressed' into replacing Captain Cohen a short time ago, from his observances of the formidable man before him, Nick knew inside he could trust him. If he explained the situation… The clearing of his throat momentarily cut the tension. He hoped Reese would understand, being a married man. "Simmons, he… he made some disparaging remarks about Nat."**

"**Nat...? Natalie Lambert?"**

"**Yeah." That was all he offered.**

**Joe looked down at the nodding man before him. He'd heard rumors about Nick and the Coroner. From what he had observed, their public behavior was always professional. Behind the scenes was a different matter altogether. This he gleaned from the snippets of debate that ran the gamut of speculative conversations heard throughout the department. No one else could seem to handle the explosive detective. No one but her. The silence continued for a few more moments. Joe cast one more glance at Nick. He realized no more information was forthcoming and rose to his full height. All things considered, he understood the reasons behind Nick's actions. He'd heard things about Simmons, though no formal charges had been filed against him. His family had seen to that. If it were him and something was said or implied about Denise… But that's not the case here. He could feel for Nick, but it was still his responsibility to deal with the matter at hand.**

"**Eh, Nick… I think I understand where you're coming from, but it's something we have to deal with. Now...This still has to go to IA and possibly a disciplinary review board…"**

**At the mention of Internal Affairs, Nick's head sprung from its position of self-imposed exile.**

"**But Cap…"**

"**Look, before you go jumping to conclusions, I want you to take the rest of the shift off, and give me a written report of what happened. I'll talk to IA and see what they want to do."**

"**Maybe I could talk to Simmons…"**

"**Don't even think about it, Nick, I don't need you getting in any deeper then you already are. Now go HOME. I'll call you before your shift tomorrow and let you know what's up, ok?"**

**Nick got up and headed for the door. His displeasure evident by the look on his face. He turned towards Reese, gave him a single nod of acquiescence then departed. Grabbing his jacket from the back of his chair, not even pausing to explain to Tracy, Nick headed across the bullpen. The words he left behind only added to the puzzlement that she was experiencing.**

"**You're on your own tonight, partner."**

**End Chapter 8**


	9. Chapter 9

**Enjoy this one, RL is going to keep me busy for a while.**

**The following characters don't belong to me, I'm just borrowing them with thanks to Sony Pictures and Mr. Parriott et al. There will be mature subject matter (language, sex, violence etc.), so if that offends move along.**

**Morning Memories**

**Chapter 9**

**The ride home was one of contemplation for Nick. The things he'd done in the last twenty-four hours started to intrude upon his mind. Those, and the combination of the soft rain that landed upon his windshield and the slapping of the wipers. The sound made him reminisce about the times before. His cursed life was nothing he would ever dream of or even imagine. Not until that fateful evening when Janette sauntered into his life. The night that led him to his current existence. The scenes flashed before his eyes, like a preview for an upcoming movie; hinting at things to come…LaCroixs' promises that at the time brought forth a feeling of omnipotence. Yes, he could do anything, command anything of anybody. For a short time, it was true. But reality was much more than he ever imagined, or truly wanted. LaCroix failed to tell him the downside. Oh yes, his darkest dreams had come true, but what a price he paid. Was still paying. Only in time could he gain forgiveness for his sins. He MUST atone for his sins.**

**His sins.**

**Now, more than ever, the incredible weight of the past hung heavily upon his shoulders.**

**Traffic was blissfully light, and the ride home was made all that much shorter. Nick considered his musings as he pulled into the garage. He would atone and he would be granted his mortality. He'd come so far to give up now. But even as he made his way into the loft, the events of the evening came back to torture him, reinforcing the guilt that was never too far away. He'd let his anger get the best of him. True, the vampire in him did not prompt his response to Simmons' derogatory tirade. His need to protect those he loved overrode his own common sense and his response had caused the predicament he now found himself in.**

**Nick tossed his jacket over the back of his couch, dropped the car keys on the secretary followed by his gun, holster and ID; the symbols of his current incarnation. He ran his hand through his hair in a vain attempt to brush the cobwebs from his mind. He was so tired. The night's events were finally taking their toll. He turned and made his way to the refrigerator.**

**When the door was opened, his first instinct was to grab a bottle of blood. He hesitated and thought a moment. He really didn't want it. It was only force of habit that brought his hand up. In fact, now that he gave the idea more consideration, the mere image of him consuming the blood brought forth a tight feeling of nausea. He lowered his arm and opted for the shaker on the lower shelf, quickly closing the door before he had a chance to change his mind. **

**Pulling the lid off, he took several large gulps from the container. The cold concoction was actually refreshing! It even set well on his stomach, easing the knot that formed there a moment before. Nick brought the rim back to his lips when an image of Natalie, berating him for drinking straight from the bottle, came to mind. He pulled back and smiled. 'Anything you say Nat.' He went to the cupboard and retrieved a tall glass and filled it. With only an ounce or two remaining in the original plastic, Nick made a sly grin and slurped the last of the solution before tossing the empty into the sink.**

**A chuckle escaped him as, glass in hand; he went to his desk and booted his computer. He'd write his report and take advantage of the rest of the evening. There was no reason for him to not continue on his current case from home. Then perhaps, he'd give Nat a call; he could lure her over on the pretense of him needing more of her shakes. That part was true enough, the remaining time with her…**

**Nick opened a file and put the necessary information on the screen. Running into a little difficulty relaying how his actions were influenced by Simmons's unprofessional public statement about Natalie Lambert. He nonetheless kept the report short and simple and when he finished, Nick polished off the rest of his drink and transferred the file to his workstation at the precinct. **

**That done, he set a search engine looking for any pertinent data on Peter Speciale. The results spewed forth a variety of sites and topics related to the businessman, including his education, community standings, and job opportunities with his various companies and subsidiaries. Nick made a mental note to give those some extra scrutiny. If what Richard Stone said was true, then his business practices that led to his accumulated wealth might just be a motive for murder. This was something he wanted to discuss with Tracy, as she had some experience from her stint in the Corporate Crime Division.**

**Nick transferred the files, sending a copy to Tracy's PC, and shut down his computer. He could relax now, his immediate worries behind him. He found his thoughts drifting again to Natalie and with no more pressing issues to warrant delay, he picked up the phone and called her.**

**It's a good thing you're home now Lambert, any more zoning and you'll have an accident for sure.' **

**Most of the trip was a blur to Natalie, with the exceptions of the other drivers blaring their horns, and the last one, just a block from her apartment, hurling a few expletives and a hand gesture for good measure. **

'**It's a wonder you made it here in one piece' She continued to berate herself as she entered her apartment, but as before, her mind returned to the possibilities that could be applied to dealing with this new discovery. As her training never really delved into Physics too much, the treatment of Nick's condition had always centered on the Medical aspects of his symptoms and reactions. Now she had a whole new avenue to approach this from. If what she discovered held true, then it was possible to give Nick a little more of his humanity. She would be able to bring the daylight back into his life. But first, she needed fresh samples from Nick. Not only for these new tests, but to check on her most recent treatment regime.**

**Natalie checked the time and wondered if she would be able to reach Nick at the precinct. Just as she was about to grab the phone, it rang. Startling her so much that she took a step back, getting a hiss from Sidney who was Tangoing about her legs at the time. **

"**Hello," she answered, after her heart settled back in her chest.**

"**Hi, Natalie. It's Tracy, did I catch you at bad time?" she asked as she heard Natalie panting over the phone.**

"**No, I just got in and was reaching to make a phone call when it rang, what's up?**

"**I was wondering if you were free for lunch? That is… a…assuming you haven't already eaten?"**

**Natalie's stomach growled, the all too significant indicator that reminded her when it was the last time she'd eaten. "No, I haven't. Sure, where did you want to go?" **

"**How about 'the Grover'?"**

"**Sounds great. I'll meet you there. Say thirty minutes?"**

"**Ok, bye Nat." When she heard the phone click off, Natalie realized she forgot to ask for Nick. 'Oh well' she thought, 'I'll catch up to him later.'**

**Natalie placed her current research on her desk and made her way to the bathroom to freshen up.**

**Ten minutes later, she exited her apartment and started down the stairs. Halfway down, she heard her phone rang back in the apartment. She debated a moment whether or not to return and answer it, but the rumbling in her stomach squelched the idea. 'If it's important, I'm sure they'll page me.' With that last thought, she continued on to her destination.**

**The phone rang four times before the answering machine picked up. Nick listened to the litany with disappointment written on his face. 'She's not home.' **

**Beep.**

"**Nat?... It's Nick...I just called to say that your latest potion seems to have potential. I can keep it down. In fact, I'm happy to say I finished the whole container. So…I was wondering if you could drop off another batch, and a…Well…Maybe you could stay a while? Watch a movie perhaps?" Nick went silent for a moment, a little uncomfortable speaking to a machine. " Uh… anyway, give me a call when you get in. I'll be home. Bye."**

**Nick ended the call and reached over from his position on the couch to return the phone to the charging cradle, when suddenly his hand began to shake uncontrollably. So much that he lost his grip and the handset fell. He drew his hand to his chest and made a fist trying in vain to stop the tremors. 'What's happening?' he wondered incredulously. **

**The pulsation continued, gaining in force and momentum. Nick grasped his forearm with his other hand. His eyes went wide with alarm as he watch his own body go out of control and something else happen that had no apparent cause. Pain. Starting at the tips of his fingers and progressing up his arm. Oh, he'd experience momentary flashes of discomfort; getting shot, stabbed or when he was caught briefly in sunlight, burned. But nothing like this. This was excruciating. Fire licking at every nerve ending. **

**Nick doubled over on the couch. 'Oh, God,' His breath coming in short gasps. Desperate to will away the pain, he was almost to the point of ripping his own arm off just to stop it. Suddenly his horror ended as the pain eased and then faded. The palsy ebbed and Nick sat up trying to fathom what had happened. He looked down and recoiled, his hand was still closed in a fist, but the flesh was blistered and charred. Nick slammed his eyes closed at the devastation he saw. 'That can't be! **

**Willing his eyes to open was hard. His nerve endings had just been tortured and were slow to respond. Finally and with a great sigh of relief, Nick looked at his hand. Normal...Opening and closing on command. The fingers and side of his palm felt numb but at this point, anything was better then the pain. He lay back on the couch and closed his eyes, exhausted after his ordeal. 'Nat's coming, she'll know what to do.' Fatigue claimed him and he drifted off to sleep, his arm still cradled to his chest.**

**End Chapter 9**


	10. Chapter 10

**The following characters don't belong to me, I'm just borrowing them with thanks to Sony Pictures and Mr. Parriott et al. There will be mature subject matter (language, sex, violence etc.), so if that offends move along.**

**Morning Memories**

**Chapter10**

**When you live your life at the opposite end of most individuals, you tend to take for granted common everyday occurrences. Not so with traffic or getting seated at a favorite restaurant. Both of which could even tax the patience of a Saint. Natalie reflected as she entered the restaurant and sat at the bar. She'd been here many a time and always appreciated the quick service, overall cleanliness, and of course the best of all, the great food. The latter thought making her mouth water, her stomach grumble and her eagerness to be fed a priority. Negating the fact that Tracy had invited her out to lunch if you could call 'lunch' being served at 1:00 AM. The small minority of working class people would agree, while the overwhelming 'Majority' were already here, or coming in to try to placate the urgings after an alcohol imbibing evening. But at the moment, food was on the agenda and after a quick perusal of the menu, she decided on the 'French Dip' with a side of rice pilaf and a bottle of 'Blue'.**

**Tracy had yet to arrive by the time her meal arrived and the overwhelming aroma of the dish placed in front of her caused Natalie to bypass decorum at this time. She enthusiastically dug into her meal; heedless of the primary reason she'd come here. **

**That point became moot as Tracy walked through the doors and slid into the seat next to her.**

" **I see you started without me," Tracy said as she removed the menu from between the salt and pepper shakers and the napkin holder, "That looks good, what is it?" **

" '**French Dip', Roast Beef with it's own juice on the side, for dipping." To demonstrate the name of her order, Natalie pushed an errant slice of beef back onto the French bread, before dipping the corner of the sandwich into the dark brown slurry and consuming the dripping result with relish. Nat took a forkful of rice, chewed and followed it down with a drink from the bottle.**

" **Good huh?"**

**Opening her mouth for another bite, Natalie nodded her reply.**

"**I'll have what she's having, but without the rice." Tracy told the barman when he came for her order.**

"**Something to drink?"**

"**A glass of milk."**

**His eyebrows notched upward at the request especially at this time of night but he didn't offer any comment. "That'll be just a couple of minutes."**

**Tracy toyed with her napkin, unsure of how to broach the subject of her partner's recent behavior. Now that she was here, she wondered if Natalie was the right person to talk to. She knew they had a history together, first from rumors in the department, then when she made detective and was working with Knight, she'd seen first-hand the relationship between the two, though when questioned, Nick would most likely change the subject. Natalie's response would be that it was a 'complicated friendship' and leave it at that.**

**By the time her meal arrived, the napkin was twisted like a bow tie and Tracy stalled for time in the easiest way she could think of, she ate.**

**Natalie watched her dig in and listened to her appreciative comments with half an ear. When the young detective took a break and sipped her milk, Natalie took the initiative and asked "So, what's been bothering you, Trace?" She chuckled slightly and added "Your father still offering you 'safer' assignments?"**

"**Ah…yeah, he's still trying," no matter how hard she tried, that one subject always caused her cheeks to flush with embarrassment "but that's not the problem."**

"**OK, then what is?"**

"**Well…Actually, it's Nick...It seems like lately, I've been partnered with Dr. Jekyl and Mr. Hyde.**

**At the mention of Nick, Natalie smiled. As she continued to listen though, worry brought forth a furrowed brow and the smile disappeared.**

"…**He's been acting really weird of late, one minute he's happy as a clam and the next he's throwing a fit…It's starting to get to me, ya know? I mean he's always been a bit unpredictable but…I don't know, at first I thought it was me, but I saw him blow up at Miller a few days ago in the parking lot and then…" she broke off, not sure if she should continue.**

"**Then what?" Natalie's voice was edged with anxiety. The affected look she gave Tracy was enough to get her to continue.**

"**We got called in early tonight. A homicide at an abandoned Mill. The victim matched the two cases from the twenty-second.**

**Nat nodded and Tracy went on.**

"**Nick got there late and wanted to poke around at the scene while I checked out the victim's identity. After he got to the Station, we stopped by the morgue and then went to interview a suspect. When we got back, Reese called Nick into his office. Next thing I know, Nick books off and he's out the door."**

"**What happened?**

"**The Captain wouldn't tell me anything other than Nick would be back tomorrow. In the meantime, I was wondering if you could talk to him, maybe find out what's wrong?" Tracy raised her eyebrows in a pleading gesture.**

"**Sure Tracy, I'll see what I can do. But right now, you'll have to excuse me for a moment." Nat got up and headed for the restroom. Around the corner she detoured to the payphone. Her curiosity getting the better of her, thinking the call she missed might have been from Nick, she dialed her home number, entered a bypass code and retrieved her messages. Sure enough, He had called and if she hadn't spoke to Tracy, she'd would have been ecstatic that he was consuming the protein shakes. With this new information however, Natalie listened for any tell-tale signs of the errant behavior Tracy described. With her and Nick's schedule conflicting so much lately, they hadn't seen each other in over a week. She'd stop by the loft with the new mixture for him to try and left a note for him. He'd managed to send her a message via her e-mail. Nothing face-to-face. **

**At the end of her messages, Natalie hung up the phone and returned to the bar. Tracy was just finishing her meal as Natalie sidled up to her. "Thanks for letting me know about Nick, Trace, I haven't seen him in a week but I'll be sure to stop by. See if I can find out what's eating him."**

**"Thanks Natalie, I appreciate this." Tracy dug money out of her pocket and placed it on the bill tray.**

**"Let me pay for mine, Tracy.'**

**"Hey, I invited you, remember? And besides, you're doing me a favor."**

**Natalie put her coat on and quickly fished a few Toonies from her purse and tossed them on the bar. "Well, thank you for lunch, and I'll talk to Nick and let ya know." Both women left the restaurant and headed for their cars.  
`**

**When Natalie reached her apartment, she quickly filled the mental list she made on her way over. Gathering items from her fridge and cupboard, she threw together a batch of the latest drink recipe. Computing the proportions to make a gallon of the solution, she drew eight heaping scoops of protein powder, added the powered iron supplement, she cut open the dispenser bag of artificial plasma and last but not least mixed them together with enough water to fill four quart containers. 'That should hold him for a while' she thought as she placed the jars into a canvas sack. As she mulled it over, now that Nick could tolerate it, he might as well keep the ingredients at his place. She did just that. Adding another bag to the ones going over to Nicks. After checking Sidney's food and water, Natalie gathered her bags, loaded them into the car and drove to the loft.**

**End Chapter 10**


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